Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 038 by Maxwel l Grant

Author:Maxwel,l Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

CHAPTER XIV. MILLIONAIRES MEET

HOLBROOK EDKINS lived in an old brownstone house among the Nineties. From the outside, the place was unpretentious; within, it was sumptuously furnished. The millionaire had altered the ancient mansion to suit his requirements.

The downstairs living room contained a gorgeous array of ornate furniture of Louis Quinze style. Edkins, as he walked among a galaxy of fragile, gilded chairs, looked like the proverbial bull amid a collection of chinaware.

A doorbell rang dully. Edkins glanced at his watch. It showed nine o'clock. This was the hour for which

he had set his appointment with Lamont Cranston, through a call to the Cobalt Club. A plainly dressed manservant entered the room and spoke to the millionaire.

"Mr. Lamont Cranston is calling, sir.

"Show him in!" exclaimed Edkins.

A few moments later, Holbrook Edkins was shaking hands with Lamont Cranston. The host invited his guest to take a chair; the servant appeared with a box of imported cigars. Meanwhile, both men took a mental survey of each other.

Lamont Cranston's keen eyes summarized Holbrook Edkins in rapid fashion. Edkins, tall and overweight, was evidently a man who enjoyed comfort rather than luxury. He was some fifty years of age, a trifle bald, and inclined toward paunchy cheeks and double chin. While Edkins appeared to he a man who might have his own peculiar prejudice, his countenance betokened a natural friendliness and honesty.

When Edkins looked toward his visitor, he was quick to observe that Lamont Cranston was a most extraordinary man. Tall, lithe, and attired in a black suit, Cranston presented a somber appearance which was increased by the calmness of his face.

Holbrook Edkins had never seen so immobile a countenance. Cranston's hawklike nose, his sharp, penetrating eyes - these were features that impressed Edkins immediately.

IT was Edkins who opened the conversation. The bluff-faced man felt a trifle ill at ease. He decided that it might be the formal environment of the austere living room. He made a suggestion to his visitor.

"Suppose we go up to my den," he said. "That's where I like to talk business. This showroom is my wife's idea. She likes fancy furniture. It makes me feel uncomfortable."

Cranston responded to the suggestion. He followed Edkins up the stairs. They reached an isolated room and entered the little apartment which Edkins called his den.

The place was not tidy, but it appeared comfortable. Edkins motioned Cranston to a large armchair.

"I understand you have invested in a new X-ray invention," said Edkins. "I was talking with your broker, Rutledge Mann. A good chap, Mann."

"I have made no investment," returned Cranston. "I merely hold an option for a part interest in the device, pending its promotion. I did not care to finance it entirely upon my own."

"So Mann informed me," remarked Edkins, chewing the end of his cigar. "Have you seen the device, Mr.

Cranston? Do you know exactly what it will accomplish?"

"No," replied the calm-faced visitor. "The terms of my option are entirely dependent upon my final satisfaction. I merely took Mann's word for it that the invention has reached a satisfactory stage of development.

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